


Reverb

by Justine_Harker



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: AU, Another One Night Stand, M/M, Punk, Sanctuary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3594648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justine_Harker/pseuds/Justine_Harker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Sebastian fled NYC, he had a few encounters with one Mr. William T. Spears, the first of which was mentioned in the story "Sanctuary". The band was loud, and the reverb was cranked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Extermities

The floor was filthy, sticky with spilled beer, and the crowded room smelled like pot smoke and sweaty bodies. Neon beer signs and photocopied show flyers decorated the walls along with decades of graffiti and band stickers. It was loud and full of punks. Admittedly, it was the sort of place I felt most at home when I wasn’t at the tattoo shop.

Even still, I was hesitant to return to the shitty dive. I huddled up to the bar, clutching a beer, pretending to be at ease even as I kept glancing at the door. I didn’t worry that anyone had noticed that I left with a stranger the last time I had been in, but I was worried that he might come back looking for me.

I suppose he was fairly drunk. Maybe he didn’t remember which bar he was in; this was only one of many in very large city.

Not likely. Despite his intoxication, William was an extremely composed individual.

With a few beers in me, I relaxed and pushed away from the bar so I could be closer to the stage, letting the distorted guitars and rumbling bass wash over me and shake away my anxiety. The crowd was sloppy and loud and the band was aggressive. The room erupted with shouts and curses at the end of each song.

When the set was done with a flourish of feedback, I almost turned to go back to the bar for another drink when a cold bottle was pressed into my hand. I looked from the bottle up to meet a familiar pair of glasses framing a handsome face. His expression was neutral and his black suit was immaculate. William T. Spears, the Senior Vice President of the Dispatch Management Division of Vanth Enterprises. This I know because he left a fucking business card at my apartment.

Like I would call him.

“What the fuck do you want?” I said. I accepted the beer and put it to use even as I glared at the man.

“Good evening.”

“Is this your fucking hangout now?”

“Only if you keep showing up.” The comment made me swallow my mouthful of beer hard. I remembered the sight of him bent over the arm of my couch, back arched, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth fabric. I shook my head like and Etch-a-Sketch before I let myself look in his direction again.

“If you think that’s happening again, you can go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll do whatever you like.”

I growl in frustration as he adjusts his glasses with what I hate to admit is becoming a familiar gesture. “You are not coming home with me.”

“That’s fine,” he says, taking a sip from his drink. He looks at the glass of amber liquid and then at me. Where did he even get that? Does this place even have glass wear?

“Good, I’m glad you agree.”

“I have a hotel room.” He sets the glass down on a nearby table and runs a hand over his black necktie before shifting his green eyes up to my face again.

“Goddamnit.”

The hotel is in Manhattan. I’m forced to sit in the back of a cab next to the quietly composed asshole, wondering why I’ve left the bar and my familiar territory. We take quick strides through the posh lobby, ignoring the shiny looking female at the front desk and the small group of dressed up clones collected outside of the bar with its pulsing electronic music. William pushed the elevator button and then ushers me into the empty car. Once the doors close, I’m on him, my hand around his throat as I slam him hard against the wall.

“You piece of shit.”

His face flushes but his expression doesn’t change as I glare at him from inches away. His green eyes hold mine, unblinking. I can smell his expensive cologne, subtle, sparking memories of the last time I was this close to him.

The elevator chimes and I release him. He proceeds down the hallway to his room, slipping in the keycard and holding the door open for me.  Looking around the room I notice how neat and unoccupied it looks. I shed my jacket and hand it to my host who immediately hangs it in the small closet.

“Have a seat,” he said.

I look at the bed and smirk. “No.”

He looked at me curiously, but waited to see if I would say more. A graceful hand pushes the glasses up on the bridge of his nose.

“Just because we’re in your world doesn’t mean you can change the rules.”

“There are rules? Interesting.” He shifted slightly closer.

“Take off your jacket,” I order.

“No.”

“This may be a nice place, but I’m not afraid to make a mess.” I walk closer until we are face to face. I could kiss him, but I won’t.

“You wouldn’t do that.”

My eyes narrow and my anger flares at his insolence. I use my left hand to shove his chest hard, pushing him into the wall with a dull thud while my right hand grips his neck, seriously this time, fingers squeezing the breath out of his throat.

“You will take off the jacket. Now,” I growl in his face.

When I release him I catch the slightest smile springing to his lips. He slides the suit jacket off his shoulders, brushing some imaginary dust from the sleeves, and hangs it in the closet with infuriatingly slow and careful movements before turning back to look at me.

“You think that fancy suit and your expensive haircut give you power?”

“They typically do, yes,” he said quietly.

“Do you think you can impress me with this hotel room?”

“Yes.”

I slapped his mouth hard with an open hand, the sound of flesh on flesh lost in the plush room.

“You will find another way to impress me. This attitude is unacceptable.”

“What would impress you?”

“You could begin by doing what you’re told,” I said and raised my hand to slap him again. This time he was ready for the blow and caught my wrist in a tight grip, squeezing just slightly to show his strength.

“I believe I bought you for the night, so perhaps you should do as I say. You can start by getting on your knees.”

We locked eyes for a long, uncomfortable moment, each second making my anger deeper and my desire thicker. Before I could make a reply, the fucker’s leg swept the back of my knees causing me to stumble. I let myself fall to my backside, kicking my legs out in front of me. His hand closes on my wrist, trying to force me to stay down. My left leg shot out and took his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. As he struggled to regain his footing, I twisted my wrist from his grip and positioned myself on top of him.

“I didn’t come here to be your toy for the night,” I grunted, panting just slightly from the exertion.

“No? Why did you come here?” he asked, his chest rose and fell under my weight as he tried to catch his breath. He struggled slightly, testing my hold on his position, forcing me to straddle his waist, pinning his shoulders with my hands. I looked down at his surprised face, clenching my teeth, emitting a low laugh.

“As I was saying,” I paused to unknot the black silk tie at his throat. I tugged until it came free from his collar. He huffed in irritation so I balled up the tie and pried apart his lips, stuffing as much of the silk inside as I could.

“As I was saying, the rules have not changed. You can go ahead and admit that this is what you want.”

He made an incoherent sound behind the wad of fabric.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to either shake or nod.” I began to slip the buttons free along the starched front of his shirt. “Is this what you want?” I asked again. My fingers were halfway down the shirt, running along the skin inside.

The gagged man nodded.

“And you’re done misbehaving?”

Again he nodded.

I gripped the open edges of his shirt and pulled them apart hard, making the remaining buttons fly off in all directions. Before he could complain I bent down to lick a line from his navel up to his sternum, stopping above his right nipple, teasing around it and then biting into the solid pectoral muscle instead.

“Mmph!”

His skin was clean and slightly salty on my tongue. I relished the feeling of him tensing beneath me. His body was slender and the feeling of the rough fabric of his wool trousers was madness inducing under my hands. I allowed my fingers to settle on his hips, pressing them into the floor while I rocked myself across the stiffness at his groin.

“What am I going to do with you?” I pondered.

My hands moved to the flat plane of his stomach and slid up his torso, across his shivering chest and came to rest on his shoulders, pushing aside the ruined fabric of his shirt to expose his throat. I leaned down to brush my lips across the skin there, coming to rest just below his ear.

“You said you bought me for the night. I suppose I should make sure you get your money’s worth,” I whispered. His body tensed just before I sunk my teeth into his skin as though he knew what was coming. I could smell the fear and excitement on him, more potent and alluring than any artificial fragrance. By the time I finished marking him he was writing beneath me, a steady whine coming from behind the fabric gag.

“Your skin is so perfectly plain. Not a mark on you, is there?” I ran my fingers across his chest. “Except here.” I bite his shoulder, sucking hard on the flesh, testing it with my teeth until I was satisfied. When I stop and see an angry purple bruise where pristine pale skin had been, I smile at the accomplishment. I repeat the process again, moving to the other shoulder until I grow bored of the game and slide myself further down his prone body.

 “I don’t think I had to opportunity to spend much time down here during our last encounter,” I said. My hand rubbed his cock through the fabric as I slid myself further down his body. His hips rose at the attention and a hand shot up to pull the gag from his mouth. I caught both arms and pinned them roughly over his head reaching my torso across the length of him and looking down into the green eyes behind the lenses.

“Really, did you think that would be allowed?”

I glanced around the room and spotted another black tie identical to the one in the dork’s mouth. How many of these stupid things did one guy need? Not owning a single one, I couldn’t appreciate how important the bit of smooth fabric was, but I did appreciate that I made a sufficient restraint when knotted around first one wrist, the around the leg of the small desk and finally firmly secured around the other wrist. After a feeble attempt to test his bonds, William settled down again and watched my face. His eyes held a calculating intelligence that might even be considered intimidating when seen across a boardroom table, but seeing the man sprawled out on the floor of his fancy-ass hotel room, drooling around a mouthful of menswear was enough to make me laugh.

I pulled my t-shirt off over my head and tossed it away from me, watching as my captive broke eye contact to see the exposed flesh, lewdly drinking it in with his gaze. Maybe he forgot about the tattoos? He was certainly staring.

“I could tattoo you like this. No one would see it under your suits. That’s the reason for this placement,” I said, tracing the edges of my pectoral tattoos and down the unmarked center of my chest, down to my navel, falling eventually on my belt buckle.

He shook his head, though his eyes watched my hands carefully.

“No? Well, you aren’t in any position to protest,” I said, pushing the leather through the buckle and then slipping the belt out of the belt loops of my jeans. “Besides, it seems like you must enjoy pain. And it’s my job to cause pain.”

The man’s eyes were wide behind his glasses, but he didn’t make a sound. I let the studded leather belt trail across his bare chest while I pondered his fate. Something about the man turned me on as much as it infuriated me. I could feel him growing desperate as my weight pressed against his slim hips and I began to rock myself, grinding into him.

“Mmph…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you. Shall I continue?” I reached my hand down to his groin again, massaging the length of him through his trousers. I nudged his legs apart, creating a space for me to kneel as I eased myself down. He seemed nearly delirious by the time I unbuckled his belt and began to ease his trousers down, his hips bucked up off the floor allowing me to remove the offending clothing. I could see his erection outlined clearly through the soft fabric of his boxers. Athletically tight, black and sensible. I wrapped my palm around him and watched the insanity play across his face. The sounds coming from him now were almost comical, almost enough to make me remove the gag to let him beg properly. I laughed and stuffed the tie in a little deeper.

“I told you it was my job to cause pain.”

With a final squeeze to illustrate my point, I got to my feet and leaned over, pulling off his boxers in one quick and rough motion, tossing them aside with his trousers and leaving him exposed and anxious. I wandered behind him to the mini bar and picked out a tiny bottle of whiskey and tipped it into an empty glass. William craned his head back to watch me, the muscles of his arms straining against his fetters. I dropped a few pieces of ice in my drink, and watched him squirm on the carpet, obviously uncomfortable and waiting for me to return and give him some kind of release. Tossing my drink back with a swallow, I caught an ice cube in my mouth before setting down the glass. I kicked off my boots and stepped out of jeans, all under the careful watch of his unblinking green eyes. I circle around him again, coming back between his legs, kicking them crudely further apart before settling back down.

The ice still in my mouth, I licked across his sharp hip bones and down to the waiting object of desire that is so rudely pointed at my face. Clenching the ice between my teeth I run it over the head of his cock and grin like fool when I hear him hiss and feel him writhe. I spit the ice onto his stomach and grasped his lean thighs, pulling them up from the floor and exposing the tender mounds of his ass. He has little time to prepare before I am pushing myself into that delicious tightness. It’s almost too much too fast and I have to pause, gritting my teeth, looking away from the way his head is rolling back and the way his back is arching up off the floor.

I miss the fact that he’s worked the gag out of his mouth until I hear his voice cursing me.

“God damn it! Fuck, Sebastian! Unngh!”

“I’m sorry? What was that?”

The movement of my hips turned his words into incoherent sounds. I steady myself, gripping his toned thighs pushing them further apart as I push myself deeper in. Red imprints from my fingertips are beginning to appear on his flesh. My eyes roll up to see his face, and it almost pushes me to my edge. The painfully neutral expression is flushed and contorted, lips parted to pull air into his panting body. He’s rising to meet each thrust as I find my rhythm and begin to work him right.

Even over the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh I can hear a keening moan, which I attribute to the red-face captive who can’t quite meet my eye as his head is tossing against the carpet. I realize that I’m making the sound and bite the inside of my cheek in an effort to regain control. Unfortunately, the same instant is when I feel the steady clenching of the flesh around me, followed by a desperate push of his hips and I lose all control.

“Ffffffuck! Fuck me! You son of a bitch!”

I detach myself from the gasping creature on the carpet and fall backward, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the pounding in my chest to slow. The alcohol and the exertion have made it feel like the room is moving slightly. I blink my eyes and turn my head to take in the sight of the prone expanse of flesh that’s stretched out beside me.

“You realize you’ve ruined two of my neckties and a very expensive shirt.”

“You realize that I don’t give a shit.” I rest a hand on his thigh, admiring the mottled skin that I handled so roughly. “And you didn’t seem to mind at the time.”

“Just a consideration for next time.”

“Next time? Are you fucking insane?”


	2. Dirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m nothing if not reasonable, William. Now take off your fucking suit.”

The building was huge and easy to miss completely the way it blended into the urban landscape. I was out of my element in this part of the city, but it didn’t bother me. The sun was just starting to set and another weirdo in a leather coat was hardly a strange sight in any part of the island. Another block and I actually walked right past the front entrance before I realized that this was my destination. Turning around quickly, I swung myself in through the revolving glass doors.

It was Friday, well after business hours. The lobby was nearly empty as I walked across the large expanse, my boots completely silent on the marble floor. The security guard at the front desk gave me an appraising look as I strolled by. Looking as though I knew precisely where I was going, he didn’t stop me or even shift from his seat. Typically I’ve found that the trick to blending in with any environment is to act like you belong. Even wearing jeans and a leather jacket I slipped into the building and to the elevators with hardly a glance.

I fingered the worn business card in my jacket pocket while I looked at the floor directory on the wall beside the bank of shiny brass doors. I found his name on the list and entered the first open car, punching the button for the 52nd floor.

Somewhere around the 30th floor the elevator pauses in its ascent to allow two women into the car. Both glanced sideways at me but said nothing. The blond nudges her friend and blushes. She chances a look up at me upon exiting again a few floors later and I wink. Hopefully she isn’t calling security. Looking at the floors tick by, I began to realize how fucking huge the building was by the time I actually reached the correct floor and the door sprung open.

Glancing left and right as though I might be crossing the street, I took off down the corridor towards what looked like a reception desk with the Vanth logo on the wall behind it. It was just past 7 and no one was occupying the desk. The door immediately to the left of the desk was closed but I saw a seam of light underneath. A brass name plate decorated the door with the name William T. Spears carefully displayed. Someone was still slaving away.

I stopped to listen for a moment, not hearing any voices, and then quietly turned the door handle and let myself in. The office was large with a pair of windows flanking a polished wooden desk. A black leather couch and two matching chairs sat on a plush white carpet and made a sitting area around a low table in front of the desk, a wall of bookcases lined the area to the left of the desk and a wall-mounted television screen and a closed door were to the right. I did a quick assessment before I entered to be sure no one was quietly hidden in the room, but it seemed empty. Though the room stank of expense, it was still exceedingly practical and clean, just like the man it belonged to.

I wandered over to the desk and ran my fingers across the shiny surface. There was some paperwork in a neat pile beside a closed laptop and a very sleek black phone. I slid myself into the leather chair and put my boots up onto the desk, kicking the papers aside.

There was a sound of footsteps and a light switch being turned off. The door knob to the right of the desk turned and the door opened.

Into the office entered a startled and fiercely annoyed man in a three-piece black suit, still completely put together and buttoned down even at this hour. His dark hair was perfectly in place even as he adjusted his glasses a bit further up on his refined nose. Sharp green eyes assessed the situation, darting around the room, seeing the partially opened door and the otherwise empty room, and then settling on me in his chair.

Of course I was familiar with what the man looked like completely unbuttoned and undone, being fucked into incoherence.

“Sebastian?” he inquired with a glare through those flashing square lenses.

“It’s fucking weird, isn’t it? Having your worlds suddenly collide.”

“This isn’t at all appropriate.”

“No? Was there anything appropriate about any of this?” I kept my seat behind his desk and leaned back slightly more, looking up at the irritated man. His gaze moved from me to my boots where they marred the pristine surface of his desk.

“I think it’s time for you to go. You’ve made your point, but I’m extremely busy.”

“Clocking some serious overtime, huh? Making some important business deals?” I nudged a stack of papers off the desk with my foot and watched as his face began to turn slightly red, though his expression remained the same.

“I don’t think you understand what I do here, nor do I suspect you care.”

“Well, you are partially right,” I said. The comment earned me an arched eyebrow of curiosity.

“What do I have to do to get you to leave?”

“Nothing. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I won’t engage in any activities beyond the scope of my work within this office. It’s inappropriate and disrespectful.”

“Why?”

“Because I take my job seriously.”

“Is anyone else here?”

“No.”

“Are there any cameras in this room?”

“No.”

“Then shut up and take off that stupid suit.”

“Sebastian…”

“Don’t make me tell you again.”

The man looked at me blankly for a moment, but I could see the thoughts working behind those glasses and the excitement of the moment starting to affect him. He reached up and smoothed his necktie and I wondered if he was remembering exactly how that silk tasted. By the way he swallowed before meeting my gaze, I think he was.

“Look, I can get a hotel room. It’s not a problem.”

I shook my head slowly. “No. Here or nothing.”

“Really, Sebastian, be reasonable.”

“I’m nothing if not reasonable, William. Now take off your fucking suit.”

William released a deliciously exasperated breath and strode purposefully to the outside office door and pushed it shut, flicking the brass lock with a click. His thin shoulders shrugged out of the black jacket and he straightened the fabric before carefully laying it across the back of the leather couch. Long fingers loosened and removed the sleek necktie and placed it atop the jacket. The cufflinks came next, placed neatly onto the edge of his desk as he came closer to glare down at me. The cuffs of his white shirt were folded once, then once again until they were neatly rolled up his forearms.

“That’s a good start,” I said.

“That’s all you’re getting.”

He walked behind the large chair I had settled myself into and started to spin it around, forcing my feet to slide off the desk and onto the floor with a thud. A long hand trailed from the back of the chair to my shoulder, giving it a stiff squeeze before the man came to stand in front of me.

“Watch it, asshole. You’re going to scuff my boots.”

He stepped on the scattered papers, kicking them aside as he kept his eyes on me. I widened my knees, still sitting low in the chair, and William leaned in until I could smell his expensive cologne. His lips met mine before I could think to insult him further. I could taste the urgency in him, the desperation for the release that he knew I could give him. He was so well trained despite his insistence in being obstinate.

Leave me your address and then act surprised when I show up. Asshole.

I bite his bottom lip hard and relish the grunt that issues from the stern mouth.

Once I release the flesh from my teeth he slides down to the floor and lands on his knees, placing his hands atop my legs, squeezing my thighs slightly. His mouth is red from the abuse I gave it and his face is slightly flushed. It’s a sight that I could never tire of as he looks up at me.

“If I get you off, will you leave?” He asks.

I don’t feel the need to answer and only arch an eyebrow in reply as he deftly unbuckles my belt and works my jeans open. They sit low enough on my hips that he’s able to reach a hand inside, long fingers moving eagerly, finding me already half hard in expectation. He leans down closer and I can tell he’s smelling me, I can feel his hot breath through the thin cotton of my boxers. His mouth presses against the head of my cock, leaving a trail of wet breath where it touched, rubbing until I’m starting to get painfully hard. His hands squeeze my thighs when he feels the steady throbbing pulse of blood right there under his mouth.

I can tell he wants it but he’s purposefully making me wait, enjoying this small moment of perceived power over me. The fingers of his left hand work me out of the soft fabric, stroking gently, his eyes are fixed on his prize and I smile because I know he can’t see me or how much I’m enjoying this. Despite the act of annoyance and distaste he insists on maintaining, he wants this as much, if not more than I do.

Again the lips ghost over me, hot breath teasing me until I wrap my hand in his hair and force his head down. Like a good servant his lips part and he accepts me whole. I keep one hand in his hair while my other hand grips the arm of the chair. My head rolls back, cushioned by the expensive leather. This I could get used to.

“Yes, that’s it, you piece of shit. You couldn’t wait, could you?” He doesn’t dignify the question with a response but utters a soft moan that sends a shiver from my dick into the pit of my stomach. His mouth is so incredibly hot and his tongue is hitting all the right places before I even know where I want it to go.

“What the fuck…ha…have you been practicing? Don’t answer that. Fuck…ah…you fucking whore.”

He’s working me now like there’s a battle in his mouth and losing is not an option. All I can do is hold on and ride it out. I pull his hair hard and he groans against me, his voice sending delicious vibrations through me and kicking me right to the edge. I don’t have time to warn him, but he knows, he can feel my body tense and he redoubles his efforts, sucking on me so hard it almost hurts.

“Oh…shiiiit…” I barely gasp as he pulls off of me just enough that I come across his face.

I blink a few times, shaking off the climax, and see the milky remains drip off his glasses and pool across his reddened mouth. He looks up at me, tongue darting out to taste his reward before he reaches into the pocket of his trousers for a clean white handkerchief. He takes off his glasses and wipes them clean before standing up again.

“I assume you know the way out.” He makes the parting remark before leaving through the side door again. As I pull myself back together I pause outside the door, listening. I can hear running water and realize that it’s a bathroom. Taking care of some unfinished business no doubt. That’s a shame.

As I see myself out I spot the black silk tie still lying carefully across the back of the couch and I pick it up. I sling the slippery fabric around my neck and I leave the office, closing the door quietly behind me.


	3. Various Repressed Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I want to take you to dinner,” the dry voice on the other end of the phone said.
> 
> “That’s not really our thing.”

I hate using a phone to convey anything significant. It seemed to me that anything should be said face to face if there was any amount of respect for the person you desired to communicate with. I considered William and I questioned my feelings on that matter while I punched out a text message.

“I’m leaving New York.” I looked at it for a full five minutes, thinking nothing in particular, until my eyes burned from looking at the tiny screen in the darkness of my room. My thumb twitched and I hit send. It took only a moment before the phone buzzed with a reply.

_"When?”_ I looked at the word and sighed.

What did I expect him to say? What did I hope to achieve here? I could have left without saying anything. Why didn’t I?

“Tomorrow.”

I let the incoming call sit for three full rings before I answered.

“What?”

“I want to take you to dinner,” the dry voice on the other end of the phone said.

“That’s not really our thing.”

“Does it matter?”

Did it matter? It was quite possible that I would never see the man again. I owed him something for the last six months even if I didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll send a car in about twenty minutes.”

I took a shot of whiskey for courage while I considered what William might mean by ‘dinner’. I decided he meant the invitation at least somewhat literally and I settled on a white dress shirt with the tails untucked over black jeans. As an afterthought I grabbed the black silk tie I had taken during my last encounter with the man and put it through my collar. It took me a few attempts, but I managed to get the knot tied and adjusted squarely at my throat. It was hot, but I still pulled on my jacket. For some reason the thick leather made me feel better though I already had a film of sweat on my skin just from the exertion of stepping outside. I had enough time to smoke a cigarette before the black Town Car pulled up to fetch me in front of my building. 

The window rolled down and I could see light from the street reflect off a pair of square lenses before I saw the face attached to them. I flicked my cigarette butt into the street and opened the car door, ducking my head into the dark interior. William sat silent and composed with his black suit almost invisible against the black leather seat. I settled in beside him and the car pulled back into traffic.

“Well, this feels fucking awkward,” I said.

“Why?” the man asked.

“Why? Because I’m not used to actually having to talk to you.”

“You’re an adult, I’m sure you can manage.”

“I can manage just fine. I just said it’s fucking awkward and I’m not sure what the point is.”

“Just have dinner with me and then you can go. I won’t say another word to you if that’s what you want.” His expression never changed but there was something in his tone that made me realize that this actually was upsetting him on some level. I never wanted to actually like him, but I realized that was exactly what had happened; mind-blowingly great sex turning into -dare I say it- affection. I stopped that line of thought and I just sat in the silent vehicle while William flicked through emails on his phone. His stark profile was tinted blue by the digital glow, the reflection in his glasses completely obscuring what I knew to be intense green eyes.

The car slowed to a stop and the driver came around to open the door. Like a trained dog, I followed William from the car into the garish frosted glass doors of a posh-looking restaurant.

“Don’t think I won’t make a scene just because you’ve brought me some place nice.”

William cast a look over the top of his glasses before turning to the hostess with a small and entirely fake smile. “Spears,” he relayed and she checked her book before quickly ushering us to a table.

The restaurant was large enough that I felt anonymous and unnoticed as we took our seats. The décor was frightfully modern and trendy with exposed brick and too much glass dividing up the room and metal lanterns hanging awkwardly from the ceiling in an attempt to provide mood lighting. The bar was polished black and almost obscenely long stretching across most of the dining area.

“Can I put in a drink order for you?” a helpful young waiter in a fitted black striped vest and a hipster handle bar mustache inquired.

“Whiskey. Lots of it, please,” I said before William could respond. The waiter looked at me and then William who stared at me with no expression whatsoever.

“We have a few craft varieties of bourbon if you’d like to look at the tasting menu?”

“Whatever costs more is fine. Thanks.” The waiter nodded and looked to William.

“Dry gin martini.”

“Alright. I’ll be back in a tick.” The waiter retreated to the bar and an agitated silence returned to our table.

I matched his stare, second for second, unwavering as we studied each other across the table until the waiter returned with our drinks and placed menus in front of us.

“I’ll be back in a few once you’ve had time to look over the menu,” he said before running far away from our table.

“This might be the longest I’ve had to look at you,” I said.

“You do tend to close your eyes,” he threw back.

My jaw clenched involuntarily and I had to work it open again to slug down some of the craft whiskey the waiter had placed in front of me. The warm burn in my throat helped. And damn if the small barrel Brooklyn-made swish wasn’t smooth as silk going down.

“Alright?” William asked.

“It’s fine.”

“And you?”

“Me?” I took stock of his expression again and saw no change. He leaned forward slightly, one hand touching the stem of the martini glass in front of him but didn’t take a drink or remove his eyes from me. “I’m alright, too.”

“Where are you going?” he asked. I had been waiting for the questions, though I still wasn’t sure that I owed him any answers.

“I was offered a spot in a tattoo shop out of state.”

“You didn’t indicate that you were unhappy with your job here.”

“How would you know that?” I leaned a little closer. “You don’t even know where I work.” There was something in the way his bright eyes watched me that made me question myself. I didn’t like it. Another thick drink of whiskey was only making my head feel light. I was losing ground.

“I sent my assistant to get a tattoo,” he said, finally picking up his drink and taking a sip before placing it lightly back on the table top.

“I’m sorry. You what?”

“After the…first evening we met,” he said tactfully.

“What are you talking about? Wait, is your assistant a geeky blond kid with glasses? Likes to talk a lot and never had a fucking tattoo before?”

“That sounds like Ronald,” William admitted.

“What’s with his hair?” I asked finishing off my drink with a slight grimace as the liquid lit a fire down my throat and into my stomach.

“There’s nothing in the employee handbook about unfortunate hair color choices. Ronald wishes to find ways to express his individuality within the corporate environment. I figured that a tattoo might aid in accomplishing that.”

“So you paid for the ink?” I asked. I spotted our waiter and shot him a wink while holding my empty glass aloft. The waiter nodded but kept his distance. William took another measured sip from his drink before responding.

“I don’t know much about your profession, but you seem to know the craft well. The artwork was neatly done and more detailed than I would have expected.”

“You’re surprised?”

“No. You seem very thorough in everything you do,” he said with just the barest hint of amusement in his voice.

“It wasn’t a complicated design. Was that your idea too, the cartoon grim reaper?”

“His idea, I’m pleased to say.”

The waiter had returned with another double whiskey and cleared his throat to attempt to break us from the vicious staring match that was being fought across the small table.

“Did you have a chance to look over the menu?” The waiter asked hopefully.

William glanced at the young man for the first time since we sat down and spoke in his monotone authoritative voice. “Have the chef send out her choice. Tell her it’s for Spears and his guest.”

The waiter nodded and left our table again as fast as his suede chukkas could carry him.

“You’re something fucking special, aren’t you?” I asked. “This sort of shit doesn’t impress me.”

“I realize that, and I believe I’ve found other ways to suitably impress you.”

That was certainly true, though I wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

“You didn’t really answer my question,” William said.

“That was deliberate on my part. You see, I’m not sure how much information I feel like giving you. Though it seems that you’re not above sending your minions out to spy for you.”

“You can’t blame me for looking into you a bit.”

“I’m fairly certain that I can.”

“I’d ask you to be reasonable, but I know that’s asking for a lot. What will you tell me?”

What did I want him to know? Somewhere in the tension and the deliberately irritating word games I realized that William was offering me something. He was offering me a chance to talk, to unload my mental burden with someone I had no solid connection to. It had always been the unspoken agreement that we had no strings. Why not now? Why not with words instead of sex?

I had gone too quiet and too still and William raised an eyebrow as he finished his martini and slid the delicate glass to the edge of the table. The waiter swooped by and took the empty without a word.

“This city is going to kill me if I don’t get out of here,” I said. “It’s too difficult to fight temptation and I can’t be here anymore.”

William considered my words. “I assume you mean some sort of chemical temptation and not sex.”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone else in the last six months,” I admitted. “I haven’t really felt the need.”

“Will removing yourself from the city relieve you from the temptation?”

“I don’t know. It will get me away from the people that keep putting me in rough situations. It’s harder to say no each time I have to do it.”

“You’re involved with something illicit, I take it.”

I didn’t respond, but I didn’t really need to. I had already said more than I meant to.

His face was the most obnoxiously static visage I had ever been across a table from. Though I knew he was listening, I couldn’t help the feeling that I was talking to a pair of glasses.

The waiter set down two more drinks and silently retreated. William took a sip from the glass and licked his thin lips before speaking.

“It’s a shame. This is nearly the perfect arrangement.”

“What?”

“This ‘relationship,’ for lack of a more appropriate term.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m serious. You’re discrete, reasonably intelligent and mature. Incredibly attractive and good at what you do. I really hate to see you go,” William said.

“What are you telling me this for?” This was not what I signed up for. This was bordering on emotional with talk of relationships and attachments. I took a large swallow of bourbon and watched his face as it blankly watched mine. Fucking robot mother fucker.

“If it’s a financial concern, I might be willing to make arrangement to keep you here,” he said, choosing his words carefully.

“You want to pay me to fuck you?” I shot back.

The waiter cleared his throat loudly as he approached the table with two small plates. “The chef sent out this amuse-bouche. It’s black radish, smoked salmon and formage frais. Enjoy,” he said cautiously sliding the petite plates onto the table in front of us. William ignored the food and kept his eyes on me, his glasses caught the light in the dim room just right and went opaque for a moment before his green eyes were visible again.

“Don’t be crass. Think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“That’s creepy. I’m not interested in being your fucking mistress.” I drank down the rest of my whiskey, feeling the effect of the drink, and glanced around for the deliberately scarce waiter. “In fact, I don’t know that I’m interested in dinner at this point.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

“Well, don’t be creepy, you fucking weirdo. You already admitted to stalking me. Now you want to pay me to hang around?”

“What’s the problem then?”

“You’re assuming that whatever problem I have can be solved with money.”

“What else is there?” he asked with all seriousness. When I didn’t respond he sighed a shallow breath through his nose and leaned forward. “I’m trying to say that whatever the problem is, whatever the reason is for you leaving, I’m willing and most likely able to help you.”

“I didn’t ask for anything from you.”

“You’re an extremely difficult person to please,” he concluded, sitting back in his chair and regarding the empty glass in front of him. Like clockwork solider, the waiter brought two fresh drinks and then fucked off back into the kitchen. I could only guess what this freak show looked like to an outsider.

“I think that the fact that you don’t understand is proof that this, whatever the fuck this is, was never meant to be permanent.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Is it? I’m sure you can find another fuck buddy in no time. You have so many fancy tricks.”

“Of course I can, but I will be hard pressed to find another quite like you.”

“Shit. That was almost romantic, Will.”

William smiled a closed lip smile. His eyes darted toward the kitchen. With a look of fresh resolve he downed the martini in front of him and then placed two hundred dollar bills on the table.

“Oh, but what about dinner?” I asked with feigned disappointment as he got up a little unsteadily from the table. I trailed behind him as he left the dining room and its shiny modern bar and stepped back out into the city night to hail a yellow cab. “Tell me more about how special I am. What do you like best about me? Is it my pretty eyes?” I asked.

William ignored my questions but held the cab door open until I got inside. He sat down next to me in the back of the cab and gave the driver the name of his hotel. It was late now, the traffic had thinned, but it was still stiflingly hot. I cracked a window in the back of the cab and tried to get some air.

I had no control over this now. It was amazing to me that I was walking through the lobby of another pretentious hotel in Manhattan, breathing in the expensive manufactured fragrance and feeling the plush carpet of the hallway under the soles of my dirty Doc Martins. I followed the perfectly tailored black suit to a door set in a corridor of identical doors and we pushed inside, letting the silence fall around us.

“You’ve made this weird,” I said, throwing my jacket down on the bed. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

“You’re here to tell me what to do,” William said. I noticed the unsteadiness to his movements as he walked to the closet and hung his suit jacket.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m slightly intoxicated,” he responded with no hint of it in his voice. “But that doesn’t change my request.”

“Stop staggering around and come over here,” I said.

There was something in this man that only seemed to unlock after a certain amount of coaxing. It’s possible that I was one of few to see it. In fact, as I watched the change in his eyes as he submitted to me, I was sure of it. Someone who is always in control finally letting go of everything and placing it into the hands of someone else. It had to be incredibly liberating.

Is this what love is supposed to feel like? I took serious stock of my own mind as I accepted the bespectacled man into my arms. He did turn me on more than anyone had in a long time, but he also frustrated me. I had no animosity toward him, but the affection I had didn’t seem to run very deep either.

This is not what I want. Even if it was incredibly enjoyable and exciting. Even if William wanted me and looked at me with this nearly unnerving amount of trust as I gripped his wrist and twisted his arm behind his back, holding him steady. Just that little bit of pain was clicking in him like a key sliding into a lock, the flesh going white from the pressure of my hand.

I wasn’t a stranger to being wanted for my body. After all, I realized I wasn’t horrible to look at and I cultivated my form with care over the years despite the damage I had done to it. But being wanted for something more than the superficial; was there such a thing? Or was this all I could hope for, whatever fucked up game we were playing with each other?

William’s mouth was warm on my throat and his hands were on my chest and back, touching the skin under my shirt like he wanted to claim all of me. I let him unknot the borrowed tie and pull the silk from the collar of the shirt. If he noticed that it was his, he made no indication as he threw the offending article aside to have better access to my neck. With a solid hand on his chest, I pulled away gently despite the fact that my body responded to his touch. Despite the sighs of pleasure coming from my lips. William was confused for a moment, his lips still parted like he’s waiting for my flesh to come back to meet them.

“You’re not going to let this happen are you?” he asked, resting his head against my shoulder, his arms dropping to his sides. I ran a hand through his carefully styled hair, disrupting the strands, deliberately making a mess of him in my effort to comfort him.

“I think we’re done,” I said quietly.

I felt all of the air go out of him as he stayed pressed against me, his body warm and solid. This was too real for my mind to handle. The alcohol did nothing to temper the dread starting to settle in.

“I could have loved you,” he said.

“No, don’t do that,” I said feeling the ice creep into my stomach. “You said that I’m reasonably intelligent and mature. Let me get out of here before you have to take that back.”

He stayed that way for another moment and I continued to run my fingers through his hair massaging the back of his neck and feeling myself sober dramatically as the icy feeling of panic started to really dig into me.

“It’s fine,” he said straightening up. “You should go before you change your mind.”

It wasn’t the first time that I packed up and left without a trace. It wasn’t the first time I had kept everyone at arm’s length to protect myself. My whole existence takes up a very small footprint and I had come to prefer it that way. Fewer lines to cut when I’m ready to go.

But William. What the hell did I get involved in?

_You should go,_ he says, but he’s holding me like I’m a life raft and he’s lost at sea. I realize that despite my need to escape, I’m not going anywhere just yet.

So maybe it wasn’t love, but there was no denying that this sex and domination game had the power to unlock something deep in the psyche. The proof was there as I felt an ache in my own chest as I comforted the man in my arms.

This was so much easier when I could slam him around the room and make him scream my name.

“You’re such a bastard,” I said, purring sweetly into his ear like it was a term of endearment. “You can’t let me go gracefully, can you?”

It was an easy transition to find my mouth on his, tasting the gin on his breath. Instead of domination there’s an equality here that I don’t have the heart to disrupt. He leans into me and I support his weight, pushing back until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Another push and he collapses backward, his back landing softly on the plush hotel mattress. His jade eyes are closed behind his glasses, his brow furrowed and I can tell that the room is spinning for him. I lift his legs up onto the bed, gently moving him so he’ll be more comfortable.

His phone has slipped out of his pocket and I stare at the black hunk of plastic for a few seconds before I pick it up. Scrolling through the messages I find the name of his assistant, Ronald Knox, and I send a brief text message.

“You awake, kid?”

_“Yeah, why?”_ the answer came through the phone with a silent vibration.

“I need you to come down to the Hotel Yandell, room 683.”

After a few seconds, another reply came through. _“Is this a joke?”_

“Am I the joking type?”

_“No, but you aren’t the type to call me ‘kid’ either.”_

“Just get your ass down here.” Fucking smart ass.

I put the phone back in William’s pocket and gave one last look at the man. His breathing had slowed and his face was relaxed. The green eyes were still closed. There was nothing left to do but leave. I gathered up my jacket and headed for the door, leaving the swing lock open so the door wouldn’t latch behind me.  

Taking my time, I walked down the corridor toward the bank of elevators. My mind was completely blank, feeding off the warm bourbon glow that was still moving through my veins, working hard to ignore the residue of guilt.

The kid came around the corner, walking quickly, his ridiculous hair the first thing that I recognized. He walked past me then did a double take, maybe recognizing me from the tattoo shop, but I keep walking. I heard him knock tentatively on the partially open door, but I'm gone before I hear anything more. The elevator doors close on me and I’m alone in the silent box as it brings me back down to street level.

It’s late. It’s hot. I want another drink and follow a neon beer sign down a set of cement stairs into a dark little bar. The stale cigarette smell mixed with spilled beer and a loud wash of classic rock on the juke box are already putting me at ease. I settle in on a bar stool and have a cold bottle in my hand within seconds.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I don’t want to look. I don’t have to answer. There’s no reason for me to answer. I don’t owe anybody anything.

Fuck.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the message and exhale with relief when I see the message is from Bard.

_“You’re still coming tomorrow?”_

“Yeah. That still cool?” I type back thinking that tomorrow is actually already here and I haven’t slept. It’s a long drive, but who the fuck cares?

_“Still cool. Can’t wait to see you, man.”_

I could just stay up another few hours, drink another few beers, and then leave this horrible city. But I know I can’t do that if I want to stay above ground and free.

“I gotta sleep this off and then I’ll be on the road.”

Everything I need is already packed into the trunk of my car. I'm ready to leave.


End file.
